The Patchwork Boyfriend
by Lennelle
Summary: She loved him. All of him. Even his secrets. Follow-up to The Patchwork Boy.


This is a sort-of sequel to The Patchwork Boy. Just a mini fic set in the Stanford-era. Warning for sexual scenes and Sam/Jess feels.

* * *

Sam was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. She could never have dreamed that she would actually end up with a really, truly decent guy. Her mom and dad's God-awful divorce had been enough to put her off men and relationships even at the age of twelve.

And she'd come to Stanford with the sole purpose of conquering. She was going to study hard and graduate with honours and just be plain awesome. Jess had sworn to herself that she would not let something as dumb as a boy distract her from getting to where she wanted to go.

But then, one night, Brady had grabbed her by the arm at a house party and yanked her away from the crowd and pretty much plonked her right in front of a guy so tall she was sure she ought to have noticed him around the campus before. And Brady had said, "Sammy meet Jessica, Jessica meet Sammy."

And Jess had said, "My name is Jess, you tool," right at the same moment Sammy had said, "It's Sam."

And, well, it couldn't have been any more like a scene out of a movie if it had tried. Brady had fucked off, Jess suspected he was spying on them, and she was left standing in front of Sam, really tall and handsome, and seemingly useless at flirting.

The poor boy had stared at her like he hadn't a clue what to say, not even a _what are you majoring in?_ He had flushed bright red and scratched the back of his neck and smiled at her from under those bangs. And the whole thing had been so damn endearing. Most boys she remembered from high school would have been trying to get into her pants at this point, or saying something that was so dumb it could have killed _her_ brain cells just by hearing it.

Basically, in Jess' experience boys were all idiots. But here was Sam; too tall for how shy he was, and completely sweet.

So sweet that the first thing he said to her was, "Can I, er, do you want a drink?"

And he didn't say it in that let-me-get-you-drunk-so-I-can-bang-you sort of way, it was a completely-concerned-about-your-thirst kind of way. And, damn it, Jess was going to have to break her No Boys rule.

She had said, "I'd like to get some air."

And bless him, he'd nodded all solemnly like she was blowing him off, completely missing her tone of I-want-to-be-alone-with-you.

That had made her laugh a little and he still wasn't getting it so she added, "Do you want to come with me?"

And, well, she hadn't seen a smile that bright and radiant in a long time. Or ever, really.

So they'd gone for a walk, wandered around until 4am when he finally insisted on walking her home. They had talked about everything. Little things like books and movies and college and friends. Then she'd found herself spilling things she'd never even told her closest friends. He was just so easy to be with, even on the first night she'd met him he felt like a friend she'd had for years.

He walked her to her door and awkwardly stuttered out, "Do you like, er, coffee?"

Jess couldn't have helped smiling. "I do."

"Do you want to, um, have coffee? With me, I mean."

And the rest, as they say, was history.

Now, Sam and Jess had been together for the past eight months. They had moved in together a few of weeks ago. Things were going great; Jess couldn't have been happier that she ditched her No Boys rule.

Except one thing. They'd never, er, consummated the relationship.

Most boys would have tried to get her into bed after the second date. Not Sam. Sam was an 'I'll cook your favourite dinner tonight' and 'I saved up for those gig tickets you wanted' sort of guy. He was wonderful and sweet and… he was so mysterious. But not in the sexy way.

Sam was mysterious in the seriously worrying way. He never ever talked about his family. Sure, there was a framed picture of his parents on the dresser, and occasionally the name Dean was thrown into conversation, but Sam never told her anything about his life.

And it was so frustrating at first. They'd had their first major argument about hiding things from each other. But after some time, she began to realise that Sam was sort of damaged. It was when they had moved in together that things came to light.

Sam checked the locks on the doors repeatedly, even when he must have known that they were locked. He kept a knife at the back of his dresser drawer that he didn't know Jess knew about. And he used to be wound up so tight at the beginning of their relationship, Jess thought that he'd gotten over it and finally let himself relax, but the evidence told her she was wrong. Sam was just as weird and secretive as he'd always been.

But, God, Jess was so in love with him.

But back to the sex thing. It wasn't like Jess was majorly bothered by it, she completely respected what Sam was and wasn't comfortable with. In the beginning, she'd wondered if there was something wrong with her but when she'd brought it up he'd promised it wasn't her, that she was so beautiful. Then she thought about how much he avoided talking about his family, she thought about him checking locks at night, she thought about the knife hidden at the back of his drawer and she wondered what had happened him. What had scared him so much.

Who had hurt him?

So she just kissed him and moulded herself to him while they slept. She played with his hair and kissed him again. She loved him. All of him. Even his secrets.

And Sam cooked for her and bought her flowers and kissed her… everywhere. But he never undressed for her, he never let her kiss him everywhere. And Jess was okay with that, so long as he was comfortable.

Until she felt it was time for him to open up. Or at least she could suggest he tried. She was already in bed, trying to read a book as Sam changed in the bathroom, like he always did. As much as she wanted him to feel safe and comfortable, she couldn't help but feel like he didn't trust her.

He padded out in his pyjamas and flashed her a smile before climbing into his side of the bed. He kissed her on the cheek and just lay on his side, stroking a finger over her shoulder. She didn't want to force anything out of him but the words came of their own accord.

"Why don't you want me to see you naked?" she asked.

His finger stopped trailing over her skin. He didn't answer and she glanced over, he had this crease on his forehead like he was trying hard to come up with a reply.

"I understand if you don't feel comfortable," she went on, carefully, "I just thought maybe it would help whatever it is if you talk about it."

"It's – "

"Complicated," she finished for him, "I know. It's okay."

She couldn't help the disappointed sigh. She really wanted him to trust her, to feel comfortable around her. But she wouldn't push him.

But she didn't have to, it seemed.

"I'm sorry, Jess," he said, kissing her cheek again, "I must be frustrating sometimes, huh?"

She smiled. "Only a little."

"I'm sorry," he said.

Jess put her book down on the bedside table. "Sam, you don't need to apologise for anything. I'd never make you do anything that you don't want to do. I just think maybe you should talk about it, you know? So we can try to understand it. I mean, maybe…"

She dropped her voice a little. "Maybe you could be asexual?"

Sam smiled at her. "It's not that. Believe me."

"Sorry," she bit her lip, "I just… sorry."

"You're right," he sighed, sitting up straight, "I can't keep you in the dark so much. It's not fair to you. It's just… this," he gestured to himself, "is not pretty."

Jess frowned, unsure of what he was talking about. But then Sam climbed out of bed and he was standing in front of her, hand gripped around the ends of his t-shirt as he took a deep breath.

"Sam, you don't have to – "

But Sam was already lifting his shirt up over his head, slowly, carefully, like he'd rather do _anything_ else. Then he dropped it aside and glanced away from her. She couldn't help the intake of breath that made him wince, but it was a bit of a shock.

Sam's torso was completely scarred. Long-healed, jagged lines zig-zagged all over, pink and shiny and puckered in places.

"It's a wonder my nipples are still intact," he joked, but he didn't have any humour in his voice.

Jess slipped out of bed and walked over to him, Sam crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously but Jess pulled them away.

"This is what you've been hiding from me?" she said. Then she leaned gently into his chest, rested her head against the soft, scarred skin, and snaked her arms around his back. It took him a moment to reciprocate.

"It's ugly," he said bitterly, "and I didn't want to… put you off."

Jess leaned back and glared at him. "You don't seriously think I would dump you because of some tiny little thing like this?" she demanded, but she traced her hand softly over his chest.

Sam shook his head. "No," he muttered, "I'm sorry – I didn't mean it like that. It's just… it happened before and…"

Jess pulled him closer, reaching up a hand so she could twirl a strand of his hair with her finger. "Whoever did that to you was an idiot," she hesitated before adding, "What happened?"

"Hunting accident," was all Sam said.

Jess pressed a kiss to one of the scars. Sam smiled and leaned down to kiss her soft and slow on the lips. When she pulled back their faces were inches apart, she could feel his breath against her nose. Slowly she reached down and lifted her nightshirt over her head.

"Well, now we're both half naked," she whispered against his cheek.

"So we are," he answered, just as softly. His hand came up to the back of her head, long fingers slipping between her curls.

"Maybe we should go all the way," she suggested, "You know, to be consistent."

"Consistently naked," Sam said with a tiny huff of laughter, already slipping to his knees. He hooked the drawstring of her pyjama shorts between his teeth and pulled them down.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

* * *

That was… steamy.

After I re-posted 'The Patchwork Boy' the other day, I had a thought about what Jess' reaction to all those scars would be, then I ended up writing my first sex scene, almost. I didn't want to go into all the details, you get the idea.

Anyway, I hope you liked it. I'm on a bit of a roll with posting lately and I hope you don't mind me spamming you with Supernatural fanfic.

Please review! :)


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